Tag: dnf

I have run close to 200 road races over the last 15 years and this year’s Boston Marathon brought my very first DNF (did not finish). After spending a little bit of time reflecting on the race, I am honestly not even upset about it—and I’m really not just saying that. I’d like to think that I did a good job of placing realistic expectations on this race, but in typical all-or-nothing fashion, I knew it would either be a huge success or a huge flop. And although my training seemed to indicated that it had potential to be the former, ultimately it was the latter.

Saturday, May 24th was my goal race for the season: the 10k road national championship. I wanted a sub 37 minute 10k so badly, and I’d told everyone that was my goal, but my body had other plans.Read more >>

We all have less than ideal races. It’s part of the game. What doesn’t kill you … right? Races fall apart for many reasons, some within your control and some outside of it.

I recently ran the Shamrock Virginia Beach Marathon and woke up on race day to a severe weather warning. I would be running an oceanside marathon with a “high surf advisory” and pelted by rain and sleet. It was during this race that I first seriously contemplated not finishing, DNF‘ing.

As someone who firmly believes in not quitting if you’re not injured or being pulled off the course, it took everything in me to finish this race. I decided that the disadvantages of DNF’ing far outweigh the discomfort of finishing the race slower than my goal time.

Five weeks ago, I was on pace for a PR at the NYC Marathon before hyponatremia forced me to a walk in the final miles. A good friend suggested I attempt a revenge marathon in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware five weeks later.

I’m glad I followed his advice. The Rehoboth Beach Seashore Marathon rightfully boasts a friendly and lively Facebook page community, a no-muss, no-fuss start where you can arrive 20 minutes before the marathon and still have time to warm up, and good on-course support. I found a nice-enough, inexpensive hotel one block from the marathon start and enjoyed a 1.5 mile pre-race warmup along the gorgeous boardwalk. Read more >>

Race reports are so easy to write when you have a big win, hit a PR, have a great race.

The crappy ones? Not so much. Those are a lot harder to document, to rehash, to reflect upon. But, alas, they are important parts of the journey too. And it really is all about the journey.

When I started running marathons almost ten years ago, a more seasoned running friend told me that if I kept doing them, it was only a matter of time before I had a bad one. He was very right. Over the years, I’ve definitely had my marathoning ups and downs. This fall’s race unfortunately crashed like a brick in the down category.

Two years ago, I was a pretty inexperienced ultra runner. I had done a handful of 50K’s, one 50-miler and was supposed to run my first 100K (62 miles) at Oil Creek in Pennsylvania the second weekend of October. My training leading up to it was kind of a joke. I had done a few 20+ long runs and PR’ed the Akron Marathon. The week before Oil Creek, I decided to cram in a 20 miler and not even halfway in, I could barely walk, my right knee was in so much pain. A friend was waiting at the turnaround point of the run with aid and I hitched a ride back to my car and took the rest of the week off.

I went to Oil Creek anyway, figuring I would rather try and fail than not try at all. And fail I did. By mile 15, the pain was so bad, no amount of Advil was helping and I had to jog/walk to the next aid station at mile 22. I got there around 12:30 pm, sat down in a chair and cried. It was my first DNF (did not finish). Read more >>

Relaxing with my feet up and a blanket with one of my teammates before my second DNF ever.

The first race of the outdoor season brings with it excitement and worry, as it’s time for me to gear up for my main event, the 10k, which only takes place on the outdoor track. As we traveled down south for our first meet, I was excited to get a chance to run an 800m race and a 5K. On Friday, I ran a middle leg of the 4x800m relay. It was a nice workout and my legs felt ready to run a 5K the next day. After PRing by a good thirty seconds indoor, I was ready for another fast race.

But it wasn’t to be. I DNFed the second outdoor 5K of my running career. Read more >>

Apparently hilarious to nonrunners, but the sticker of doom for runners.

Despite all the work we put in and the hopes we bring to the starting line, not all races are perfect performances. We often talk about the tough races – you know the ones – the ones in which you miss your goal time, you get hurt, or even worse, you DNF (do not finish). But we don’t often talk about what happens when your entire season tanks.

Today we are going to tackle the subject because unfortunately it happens more than we’d like to think it does. And believe it or not, we can and do live through it.

So how do you deal with the “what happens next?” feeling after you didn’t finish that goal race?

My goal race this fall was an attempt at a new personal distance record for me (100K, 62 miles). Unfortunately, my IT band and right knee were hurting a week before the race and I decided to start anyway, thinking I’d rather try and fail than not try at all. At mile 23, I reached the third of four aid stations (the race was two 50K loops), sat down in a chair and cried for a few minutes before handing the volunteers my bib and timing chip. It was my first time my race results would say DNF (did not finish).

In the weeks following, I’ve learned a lot about how to deal with the disappointment. Read more >>